


The Moods of a Matchmaker

by Spooky_Skittles



Category: Jreg, The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: (tho im not funny), Ancap is tired of their bs, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Other, Swearing, libcap but very minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23664616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky_Skittles/pseuds/Spooky_Skittles
Summary: Ancap discovers a secret hidden in plain sight. He decides to help out his idiot roommates for once.
Relationships: Anarcho-Communism/Communism (Centricide), Ancom | LibLeft/ Commie | AuthLeft
Comments: 53
Kudos: 170





	1. shit got real

**Author's Note:**

> IM BACK BOIS!!!  
> sooo this ones gonna be a bit longer but ive got most of it planned already. hope yall enjoy !

Ancap realized. He stopped on his tracks, dropping the tiny metallic spoon he had just been using to stir his coffee and staring at the wall before him in silent horror.

His roommates were really fucking gay. For each other. Holy shit. Holy _shit._

He calmed himself down a bit and reminisced the events once more , with this new found knowledge fresh in his mind. It started as a normal night for him, Nazi had gone to bed at 21:00 like the grandpa he is and Ancap had finished eating his third grilled cheese sandwich of the day.

“You should start eating healthier. I’m pretty sure humans can’t live only out of bread, butter and cheese” Ancom said, eyebrows raised in both admiration and disbelief. Qui was waiting for the popcorn to be ready.

“And I’m pretty sure humans can’t handle all the drugs you take in a day, but here we are.” he replied, while leaving the plate on the sink for another person to wash (Tankie, most likely).

Ancom looked up and opened quis mouth as if wanting to refute that statement but nothing came out. Qui was left looking like a fish out of the water. Ancap cackled at the thought and the other anarchist glared in response, with a face that said I-would-kill-you-but-you-owe-me-money-so-you’re-safe-for-now. Most of their interactions went like this. It’s essentially a practiced routine by now.

“Ah, by the way, I use the dinner table to work,” he said “so just ignore me.” Qui took the popcorn bowl and gave him a short thumbs up before leaving the room. Tankie and quem had decided to watch a movie today. They already had this tradition apparently, but the smell of pot in Ancoms’ bedroom had become too intense for Tankie to handle anymore, so they moved to the living room.

That was the fatal mistake. Witnessing the whole ordeal. 

As he settled in the table like he usually did, he saw from the corner of his eye how Tankies comfortable posture on the couch shifted as soon as his friend sat very close to him, practically resting on his lap and making his whole body tense up and his ears turn red. In that moment, Ancap didn't give it a second thought, and began working on his passion project: Ancapistan.

Right about 1 AM, the Idiots© had started bickering in whispers over something or the other, when suddenly they went quiet. Ancap was tired already, and he felt his eyelids collapse, but his body kept moving. In hindsight, he should’ve probably left the room at this point, because they were getting closer and closer and _why the fuck didn't_ _he_ _process this_ _earlier was he really that tired I mean what the fuck they were literally about to kiss and he only realized this the next goddamn day oh god._ They must have finally noticed his presence, because they quickly moved away, both flustered and scarlet red even under the dim light of the television, the movie playing in it long forgotten.

The tension in that moment could’ve been cut with a kitchen knife, but they slowly went back to normalcy, or at least, to faking it.

Ancaps notes were getting messier and messier as the night went on. He normally wasn’t this dedicated to… anything really, but Ancapistan was an exception of course. He called it “ _The One Thing Keeping Me Sane_ ”. A land where every man can be a king! (not in an anarcho-monarchist way, that guy is quite literally wack) (and also fuck the poor).

The last thing Ancap remembers from that late night before going to his room and collapsing on the bed was Tankie drowsily allowing Ancom to, and I shit you not, _play with his fucking hair_. Tankie, the scary, intimidating Russian accent guy, the man that looked like he could open a skull with his bare hands, was letting himself be pet like a dog (more accurately, like a bear, considering his height). Ancap would’ve laughed at the situation, hadn’t the realization that his friends/enemies/allies were whipped for one another rushed over him like cold water.

So. What now? Whatever shall he do with this cursed information? Part of him wanted to use it to blackmail the shit out of Ancom just for the heck of it, but he actually felt a bit of pity for them. I mean, their pining was so embarrassing and terribly obvious. He absolutely _wasn’t_ considering helping their hopeless asses and he absolutely _wasn’t_ interested in doing so either.

Nope. That’s some commie shit. No. This was none of his business and as much as he secretly enjoyed chick flicks and scheming around in other peoples shit, they would find the idea of him helping them with their love lives abhorrent. It was no use.

_H_ _owever,_ a tad of mingling here and there wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less his own pride. Just innocently asking out of sheer curiosity and then leaving them to figure it out by themselves. That’s it. That was all he wanted to do. Nothing more.

Ancap left his seat and went to see if he could catch one of them alone. You know, just to _talk_. Normally, Tankie went grocery shopping for them but since he had gotten sick of “doing everything in this household” it was Ancaps turn. It was not very late, so perhaps he could catch the older man before he went on his daily jog, talk with him, then wake up the other anarchist and drag quem with him to the store. Flawless plan, of course.

Except it wasn’t.

As it turns out, Tankie had left for his jog extra early that day, which, while not unusual, made Ancap suspect it had something to do with the flirty acts of yesterday.

Tankie was the type to run from his problems when he had no idea how to deal with them, literally and metaphorically. The russian was in love with order and precision, and Ancom was anything but. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of Ancom being all romantic, much less around the idea of quem being all romantic with _Tankie_. The leftists were close friends sure, but they still fought quite a bit. Even he and Nazi didn't bicker that often. He wondered if those differences would destroy their relationship before it even started.

By the time he remembered he was holding it, the coffee had gone cold.


	2. never did no harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was not as easy to solve as those movies made it seem. Should he be subtle? Blunt? A complete asshole? No one had prepared him for a situation as awkward as the one he had inserted himself into. He could always back out but if he did then the curiosity would eat him from the inside and out. Damn him and damn those ridiculous movies Minarchist made him watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sooo im sorry for not updating this sooner, but online homework is kicking my ass (thanks corona)  
> enjoy!!!

He opened the door to Ancoms’ room with force, shaking those thoughts away with a reheated cup of coffee that tasted significantly worse.

“Wake up loser, we’re going shopping” he exclaimed, grin already stuck on his face. In response, a hand under the layers and layers of bed sheets throws him a pillow that lands on the floor, before grunting loudly. Ancap stepped inside and jerked the sheets away from quem. Qui was now in a fetal position, with quis back turned away from him. “Stop acting like a child” he said, putting on his best scolding voice. He had learned that from Nazi.

The other anarchist just groaned louder. Unbelievable, this guy. Seeing as qui was still resting, Ancap made the drastic decision of pulling up the blinds, allowing the rays of sunshine to hit Ancoms’ eyes directly, making quem stick quis head further into the pillow, muffling quis whines. He waited for a bit, hoping his roommate would mature faster and finally, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like a babysitter.

“If you come I’ll buy you LSD” he exhaled, irritation present in his tone. This made quem move quis face from the pillow, body still facing away from the intruder in quis dorm. “The good kind?”qui mumbled, like the spoiled brat qui was. “Oh for fucks sake, _yes,_ the good kind!” the annoyance now spilling over his words. Ancom hummed as if thinking about it, though Ancap doubted that was possible given and finally uttered a simple “Fine”.

“Great” he said. He was still bothered at the fact that the little shit had gotten fucking drugs from it, but there was something in the back of his head that believed Ancom was acting weird. He paid it no mind, however, and went back to searching for the shopping list Tankie had made. Just because he complained about Ancoms’ lack of order didn’t mean he was any better, but he would never admit it out loud. He knew better than to give quem a reason to tease him.

Ancom came out of the room looking scruffy, hair messy and clothes wrinkly as ever. Quis face showed an expression unfamiliar to him. Usually, qui seemed slightly indifferent, maybe even annoyed around him. Nothing other than bored eyes meeting his and, occasionally, the faintest of cocky smiles whenever qui won an argument. But this time the stare was...

Cold, focused, and stiff. Qui looked like a completely different person. Scary, almost.

If qui wanted to freak him out, it was definitely working.

“So?” qui inquired, making Ancap jump. “Are we leaving now or what? You look like an idiot just standing there”. Qui seemed normal again, and he sighed briefly in relief. “Yup” he responded, emphasizing the p and turning on his heels to open the door.

Fuck.

There _was_ something wrong with quem.

**\------------**

The trip to the store had been quiet, with Ancom placing the side of quis head against the car window and closing quis eyes, yet not quite resting. It made him even more nervous after the encounter at the entrance.

Ancap pretended to examine the ingredients of a random product attentively. He wondered how to bring up the dreadful topic. This was not as easy to solve as those movies made it seem. Should he be subtle? Blunt? A complete asshole? No one had prepared him for a situation as awkward as the one he had inserted himself into. He could always back out but if he did then the curiosity would eat him from the inside and out. Damn him and damn those ridiculous movies Minarchist made him watch.

His internal scolding was rudely interrupted by a quiet voice. “Ancap” qui said, pausing before pursing quis lips momentarily, eyebrows furrowed in something akin to doubt. Ancap made a low noise in acknowledgment and turned around to face the shorter one of the two, as if encouraging quem to continue.

“Uh...” a hesitant pause “Which one should I pick?” Qui practically shoved the two cans of soup broth in his face, fake smile and everything. Ancap raised an eyebrow and put on his best 'Don’t-bullshit-me-like-that' face.

Qui loved to to state quis opinions, that much he knew. So, what made the outspoken, loudmouth imbecile suddenly act all shy and shit?

Oh. _Oh._

Bless whoever is playing the mysterious game that is the world for the wonderful opportunity. Now he remembered why he wanted to do this in the first place.

“Is this about your crush on Tankie?” the teasing voice came naturally, and so did the shit-eating grin. Ancom went as red as the cans qui was still holding, made obvious by the artificial light above them. The embarrassment coming from quem was almost tangible in the sterile air of the supermarket. “How did you- That’s not- “qui sputtered. Ancap had witnessed his fellow extremist struggle to find words many times prior to this, but the satisfaction of leaving quem speechless now was infinitely superior to all the others. Like Doja Cat once said, what a time to be alive.

“C’mon pal, did you seriously think I wasn’t gonna notice?” he stated, while lowering Ancoms hands and leaving the soup cans in the shelf behind quem. Poor thing was still paralyzed. “Unlike you two, I'm not Hellen Keller when it comes to love.”

The aforementioned fucker would have slapped him right then and there if Ancap had worse reflexes. Qui looked furious.

“Wait why did- “

“Ancap you- you bastard!” qui was not yelling, but the low snarl that came out of quis mouth was way crueler. Qui was livid and Ancap swore he saw quem trembling.

“Don’t you dare fucking mock me, I already get enough of that from Nazi. My love life has nothing to do with you, get it? Now let me go.” 

Fucking hell. It was that scary look again. Real creepy.

He exhaled but did not let go of quis wrist, even after qui complained. “You got me all wrong buddy,” he explained “I know you're very independent and whatnot. But I also know Tankie is one repressed bitch, and your ass isn't any better. For once I am not doing something in exchange for money. I actually want to help you two get together. And it'll be way easier if you just let me.” He let go of quis wrist. No reply was given.

The rest of the visit to the store was deadly silent. It made him uneasy, but he didn't attempt to start up a conversation after what had previously taken place. Sometimes, he thought, silence is persuasive. 

Of course, that could also mean... "Are you upset?" he asked while entering the luxurious car, refusing to meet the shorter ones' stare.

"No."

"That's good."

Ancom said nothing, and crossed quis arms. Qui gave him a side glance from quis seat beside him, as if scanning him with a distasteful look on quis face. “Ok. But I still don't trust you.” It took him half a second to realice what qui was talking about.

“Fair enough.” he tried to stop the sincere smile tugging at his lips, but it was impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ancap listens to doja cat, no i dont accept criticism.
> 
> (jk i do. feedback is also very cool)(and thanks for the comments on the last one <3)


	3. this is heaven and i'd die for it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still, something about love is so quiet and so loud. Words cannot describe it, and any attempt at doing so usually ended up falling flat, in his opinion. It was heaven and anyone would die for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took even longer oh no T-T  
> had a bit of a writers block, hope it doesn't happen again. enjoy the chapter!!

Three weeks had come and gone, and they still had no plan. Anything he suggested got rejected for being “too tacky” or “just plain stupid”. And once again, Ancap regretted _everything_. Oh, the lengths he had to go just for a wee bit of fun in this miserable household! Disgraceful!  
“For the love of weed,” he plead, exhausted “can’t you just ask him out?” 

A groan came from the other end of the table. “It’s not that easy, Mr. Moneybags.” qui said, running quis hands through quis own hair, making the tousled locks appear even more messed up “Plus, how are you so sure he even likes me? “  
This time, the groan came from him. Not this shit again. “Oh my god, Ancom” he didn’t even have the strength to insult quem “You guys flirt _all_ the time, just thinking about it makes me wanna puke. Also, what about the time you almost fucking kissed in our couch with me in the room? And the other day when he kept staring at your- “

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you- you capitalist pig!” embarrassment was evident in quis face, and the words came out rushed and less intimidating than Ancom would have liked. The grin on his face grew just the tiniest bit. “Aw, now you’re even using his insults too! How cute, _anarkitty_ ” he snickered into his hand as the younger one practically jumped with distress and started shrieking threats directed at him, mostly about how he was going to get his skull smashed in.

“What is going on here?” a firm, almost motherly-sounding voice with a heavy russian accent made both anarchists stop their fight in stupor. How long had he been there, exactly? The hooded one turned a bit to face Tankie, who stood resting one foot on the doorway.

Ancoms’ demeanor did a literal 180 in a matter of seconds. 

“Nothing. Just losing brain-cells while hearing the McRich over here speak” qui pointed at him with quis thumb. Tankie gave quem a lop-sided smile at that, which of course meant that Ancom looked a bit brighter and of course meant that quis own smile was fonder. How gay of them. “Well let’s leave fighting for another moment, да? Nazi was playing his video games and complained to me. He was hearing you over the gunshots.”

Qui scrunched quis nose at that. “You’re just giving me reasons to be louder.”   
Tankie huffed a laugh “I actually would do that, but we’re living together, so...”

Qui pouted a little and replied, in that teasing voice qui seemed to reserve for the other man: “Look at you licking his boots like that. Doesn’t surprise me one bit, _statist_.” Tankie shook his head slightly with faux exasperation “As if. I’m only saying it because I don’t want him to shoot you.” 

Another thing he had learned from this whole experience was that watching them flirt was horrible when Ancap wasn’t sleep deprived. Very awkward. Like, ‘Can’t-even-watch-them-without-puking’ type of awkward. He needed an excuse to get the fuck out of here. Or maybe an excuse to observe them from a distance. He was a man on a mission, after all. “Anyway” he started, stretching the first syllable “I have to get going. Coffee to make, nukes to sell. Just the usual.” The glare both leftists gave him didn’t come as a surprise. 

“Don’t interrupt me.” The statement was directed to both, but he looked at Ancom directly as he said it, in hopes qui would get the underlying message in his eyes. He put in his black Raycon E25 Wireless Earbuds© (with amazing sound quality!)(buy them or perish), and proceeded to enter the kitchen. After the Movie Incident as he dubbed it, he had decided to use the kitchen table to work instead. For obvious reasons.

_It’s now or never, so stop being a pussy. Ask. Him. OUT!!_

\--------

  
Naturally, the first thing he did when he walked in was turn off the music playing on his phone (Doja Cat, duh) and pretend to start working on his computer. He liked to brag about the noise isolation those earbuds had, so he hoped the other two extremists didn’t think he was eavesdropping. Which he was, obviously. Despite his gossipy urges, he decided to be a bit subtle and sat far from the tiny kitchen window that faced the living room and dining area, but just enough so he could peek through it occasionally.

Present-him was furious at past-him for jumping in at the possibility of being part of a real life romantic sitcom. To be honest, it wasn’t the people he was setting up that he was mad at, surprisingly, more so the amicable and casual conversations they kept on having despite the feelings and touches that were there for anyone to see, if you paid close attention or if you were good at reading people, like him. They were an open book full of annotations and scribbled notes on the margins, pages highlighted yet kept with care and warmth. An intact mess.

And there were so many touches. These were left unsaid between the two, like most things in their relationship, a limbo between friendship and love. It was nothing explicit, but rather airy touches, full of hesitation. They danced around them. Like they were scared to lose the others’ trust by revealing too much with a slight caress.

Each and every time they were around the other when they thought no one was looking was the most fragile Ancap had seen either of them. It wasn’t hard to see why. The leftists weren’t used to having things served to them on a silver plate. And so, they kept on yearning from a distance, wishing and hoping and living for the other. Were they afraid of rejection or afraid of love? He didn’t know.

Nothing about either of them was truly quiet, both outspoken in their own ways. Still, something about love is so quiet and so loud. Words cannot describe it, and any attempt at doing so usually ended up falling flat, in his opinion. It was heaven and anyone would die for it. Romantic, familiar or platonic love, all of it intoxicating in unique ways. 

Since when was he such a sap? Oh, right. Since Libertarian.

But this wasn’t about him. That was a completely different story that he wished _not_ to tell, thank you very much.  
Right now, he was doing a terrible job at spying the lovebirds. It didn’t take much to realize it was just the usual. Breathy laughs and quiet stares. Somehow, the air felt more charged than when he left the room, if such a thing was even possible. 

“Hey, Tankie.” Ancom started, avoiding the other mans eyes “I barely see you now. Which is weird because… we’re literally roommates.” Qui tried and failed to lighten the mood by laughing after that phrase with clear implications behind it. He had been avoiding quem.  
Ancap didn’t need to look up from his computer to know the face the tall man was making. 

Taken aback by the sudden honesty, Tankie took his time to reply, and fiddled with his coat before saying: “Um… I’ve been busy, anarkitty. Revolutions are complicated.” he wavered before approaching the younger one, stretching out a hand and carefully placing it on top of quis. “If I could, I would spend so much more time with you. We’re comrades, да?”

"Yeah, that's part of the problem though." qui whispered, then realized what qui had just said. And realized qui had said it outloud. Tankie heard it however, hurt and shock in his eyes. Qui rapidly jolted quis hand away, and started to stand up, looking terrified of quemself and refusing to look up from the floor.

“What do you mean, anarkitty?” he sounded just as hurt as his face had shown, emotion fully betraying him and making his voice crack a bit at the end.

The anarchist was shaking now. “I.. I'm sorry- just- _Please_. Stop.” The Russian just stared at quem, appalled by those words. Ancom ran to quis room, slamming the door shut.

He was afraid this would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a sappy mf. dont kill me pls im a sucker for happy endings but leftist unity without angst is not leftist unity.


	4. i think you're alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui didn’t mean it. To run away like that. Like a coward. Qui was tired of running and leaving and hurting people. Of hurting him.  
> Maybe it was in quis nature, to hurt people. 
> 
> To escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is self indulgent af i do not care

Tankie looked like he had seen a ghost. He was paralysed. Call him soft, but Ancap couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t fair for either of them. Were they oblivious losers? Yes, but he walked decisively towards the kitchen window anyway.

 _“_ You know where qui is. Stop moping around and _go_.”

The authoritarian, with a puzzled expression, eyed him momentarily, before coming to his senses and nodding briefly, leaving the room empty. He sighed to himself.

 _“_ Good luck _.”_

He turned around, trying not to think too much about it. They were dumb yes, but not enough to ignore this any longer.

\------

The house wasn’t huge. It wasn’t modest either, of course. The anarchist had refused to let them go near the other 34 houses, all of which were significantly more luxurious. At the beginning, qui didn’t exactly _like_ the prospect of living with the other extremists. God, the idea seemed repulsive at the time. But there was nowhere else qui could go and Ancap was a good dealer, so, begrudgingly, qui accepted the offer. Now, qui was just used to this. It had been hard to become familiarized with such an environment. Drugs were pretty useful for that.

And, well. Tankie was also of great help.

Qui didn’t mean it. To run away like that. Like a coward. Qui was tired of running and leaving and hurting people. Of hurting him. Maybe it was in quis nature, to hurt people. To escape.

Tears were streaming down quis face before qui could stop them. And for the first time in weeks, qui _felt_ the pain, felt its thorns trapping quem. Qui pushed quis knees to quis chest and wrapped both quis arms around them. Vision blurry, qui stared at the horizon, refusing to acknowledge the real reason for these tears, refusing to acknowledge quis fears.

The view was nice. It was quiet and serene, overlooking a busy city from up in the hill. The birds sang their song during the day and the silence of the night took over afterwards. Ancap clearly bought it with the sight in mind.

Qui had learned how to climb to the roof from quis window up in the attic. At first, qui only came here to smoke in peace and take in quis surroundings, but now it was another way to escape. It really was the only thing qui knew, wasn’t it? Qui wiped quis face, eyes closed. Breathed in and out. Ignoring the world for a while. Ignoring quemself for a while. Qui opened quis eyes again.

“Hey.”

The soft voice almost made quis heart stop, and the shock was aggravated when qui saw the source of it. Instinctively, qui lowered quis hands and knees. How had qui not heard the window open?

“Tankie?! Wh-”

“I’m sorry for scaring you Anar- _Ancom_ ” he interrupted, “but listen to what I have to say. I don’t know what it is about me that is troubling you. Let me know when you’re ready. I understand if you need your space, but I… I’ll wait for you, is all. Please let me learn how to be better. For _you_.”

Tankies’ voice was deep and rough, like a coarse stone. The Russian was eyeing quem keenly, respectfully, yet willing to let himself be burned and consumed by quis essence. Everything that made quem. All of it being basked in, internalized, memorized by the other man. It was impossible to change his mind. To him, qui was worth it. And he wanted to be worthy for quem. Funny, isn’t it? How they both didn’t feel like they were enough. Even if in the others’ eyes, they were already perfect.

_Let me learn how to be better._

“For me?” qui whispered to quemself.

It was moments like these, words like these that made a melody bloom inside of quis chest. An orchestra starts playing.

It begins as a brief tune, then develops into a full symphony that reels quem in, along with unbearable warmth and pure adoration for the man sitting next to quem, making quem feel as if qui could do anything. The song was the fleeting feeling that qui had always been hesitating to lean into. As soon as it comes, it goes.

And when it stops quis life goes back to radio silence, for days or weeks, sometimes months at a time. Just quem and quis thoughts, static in the background, letting time pass by until the next time the conductor decides to start over again.

Ancom chases that feeling, treasures it, remembers it. But does so in a bittersweet way. It is but a reminder that even the euphoria that keeps quem going is temporary. It’s a deciduous tree, and it’ll become a faint memory once quis permanent winter arrives. Quis fear is the symphony coming to an end, leaving for good.

The tall man had stopped examining quem, opting instead for observing the city that laid there in the distance, bustling with light and life. The downward curve of his mouth and the furrowed eyebrows were almost determined. A sight more intoxicating than any drug, more beautiful than the sunset in front of them. Sound of violins entrancing the hooded one like magic, harmonious and constant. Quis heart soared along with the beat, and for the first time since it was conceived, instead of yearning the melody represented _hope_.

The communist must’ve noticed Ancom’s burning stare because he looked back and a jolt of electricity went straight through quem. A simple stare that carried a raw emotion, so tangible, directly to quis heart. Something akin to…

He blushed intensely once he realized he had also been staring and pretended to be distracted by his jeans. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Qui is so screwed _,_ badly _, terribly_ screwed even. Shy Tankie is definitely quis biggest weakness. Ancom could’ve sworn qui gasped. The notes are playing faintly in the background now, because quis rapid heartbeat almost deafens everything around them. Time slows down, the tempo does so as well and the words are in quis mouth before they can be silenced. Adrenaline running through quis veins.

“Tan- _Commie_ .” a pair of curious brown eyes meets quis green ones. As soon as that happens, qui moves quis head to stare at quis folded legs. “I… I like you! So much. It’s like, fucking ridiculous, really. You are literally just sitting here right in front of me not even saying anything and yet it’s like poetry to me. It’s just- it’s too much for me to handle. And the reason I ran away before was not because I’m mad at you. I am mad at _myself_ because you’re- you’re you and I’m terrified of you leaving me because I am, well, me and- holy shit, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. But, uh, I guess it’s done now. Shit.”

Qui let out a shaky breath and raised quis head. Tankie looked at quem, but didn’t have any discernible expression on his face. Complete silence. Ancom felt quemself tremble again. Qui glanced away, making quis best attempt at a poker face while trying not to break down crying again. Anything was better than silence.

A soft palm on quis thigh, however made quem stop dead on quis tracks as qui was about to leave once more.

Tankie was careful, gentle and caring. Not many people saw that side of him. Hell, _qui_ hadn’t seen that side of him until relatively recently. And that’s what made quem fall for him in the first place. This reminded quem of the Couch Incident, and of how pissed qui was at Ancap for being there the rest of the night. But qui would’ve regretted kissing the communist for the rest of quis days back then. Now, well, qui had confirmation: Tankie had seen Ancom get carried away by quis own insecurities and still desired quem just as much.

Qui allowed quemself to take in the mans’ features slowly, as they got closer and closer until all that was there to look at were fluttering eyelashes, honeycomb eyes and spattered moles. Their breaths mingled, their foreheads touched, their hearts clumsily trying to hold every bit and piece of their splattered feelings together. Chapped lips met halfway, in a swift motion that sent shivers down quis spine. Old vodka mixed with dry tears and passion. Devotion to learn the others’ lips by memory.

Tankie moved his hand to the anarchists waist and pulled quem in, while adjusting his face to deepen the kiss. Qui understood, and put quis hands around the authoritarians’ neck while biting and tugging at his lips, embarrassment leaving quis body for good.

They kept the kiss going at a slow pace until they were nearly out of breath. And it was normal, the hunger with which they clung to one another. It was all that they had wished for and had never hoped to get. After many more of Ancoms attempts at kissing every freckle, every mole, every scar on the MLs’ face, they finally decided to climb down the roof and settle down in the anarchists’ unkempt bed for the night, still holding each other close. Qui could hear quis lovers’ heartbeat while he was resting. And it accompanied the orchestra perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole symphony metaphor-thingy is inspired by "I Hear An Orchestra Play" by the man jreg himself bc it made me sad :'') give it a watch!
> 
> next chapter is going to be an epilogue, short and sweet. as always ty for kudos and comments they make my day <33


	5. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They could’ve asked each other out all along and instead got him to spend time working on (more like, thinking of working on) something other than the centricide or Ancapistan. For free! What was he, a slave? This was revolting, disgusting, repellent, and every other negative adjective he was too tired to think of.

Ancaps’ eyes probably looked  like they were about to pop out of his sockets and run straight into the sun. 

“So, what you’re telling me is you two got together? 

“Uh huh.”

“ _L_ _ast week_?!”

“Yeah.”

“And my matchmaking skills weren’t needed? At all? Not even a little bit?” 

Ancom seemed amused,  grin toying at quis lips . That little rat. “Nope.”

“I wasted my time for nothing! What the fu-”

Qui shushed him and pointed at the  authoritarian using quis legs as a pillow, resting  the side of his head on them, blanket covering his body . He promptly quieted down,  (Tankie was especially cranky if woken up against his will. Learnt that the hard way) but was still annoyed at the  pair. They could’ve asked each other out all along and instead got him to spend time working on (more like, _thinking_ of working on) something other than the centricide or Ancapistan. For free ! What was he, a slave?  This was revolting, disgusting,  repellent, and every other negative adjective he was too tired to think of.

The other sighed “I’m going to regret  saying this later but...”  A pause.  Qui is running quis  left hand through the communists’ hair. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t help  change my mind. About how Tankie sees me. But only a little. The rest was all me, so  don’t get too cocky .” Minus the last part, Ancap  was satisfied  with this reply.

“Well, it’s my pleasure. Doing business with you I mean. Meaningful advise costs 10,000$. Cash or crypto only, though.”

Now it was the leftists’ turn to look bewildered. He did his best to suppress the cackle bubbling up in his throat for the sake of his neck (seriously, Tankie had no chill.) “I’m kidding. As long as you two aren’t making out everywhere I won’t complain. Just don’t be _too_ obvious or Nazi will freak out.” Which was his way of saying he was happy for them.  But he wouldn’t admit that out loud. Ever.

Ancom gave a little smile,  a truthful one. The extremist on quis lap shifted a bit, qui looked down. A small glistening in quis powerful green eyes grew stronger. 

Yeah, they were gonna do just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIN.
> 
> ty for all the love yall give this fic!! ty ty ty!!! rly wanted to give this work one final goodbye in the form of this epilogue from Ancaps' perspective once more. 
> 
> stay safe<33

**Author's Note:**

> ive got a twt ( @cosmixseuls ) and a tumblr ( goblin-enbyz ) so feel free to contact me there <3
> 
> I'm pretty new to writing, so feedback and criticism is very much appreciated


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